You'll Always Be My Hero
by MusicoftheNight008
Summary: When you're a nation, time itself becomes meaningless. The years come and go, often with reoccurring instances of war. What Alfred and Matthew come to realize is that during these moments, it's important to hold onto their memories of peace. -1812 focus -
1. Chapter 1: 1813 York

**A/N:** I've wanted to write an 1812 AmeCan story for so long...what a better time than the war's bicentennial?  
And I've also always wanted to write a story tracing America x Canada throughout the years (for the most part).

I hope you enjoy!

* * *

_You'll always be my hero...even though you've lost your mind._

* * *

With a shuddering breath, Matthew lifted his head and felt the heat coursing through his body as it scorched his skin. No matter how desperately he wanted to shut the image from his mind, wanted to go back to how it used to be, no dreaming can take the sight before him away. Luckily the pain was slow and appeared as minor stabs whenever he breathed too deeply, pushing his way through the town with his men, his people.

The smoke around him was suffocating, polluting his lungs and choking him as he tried to see through the haze, see where the enemy is...see where _Alfred_ is.

He knew Alfred was out there. Somewhere amongst the bluecoats was the tall blonde and Matthew knew that he was looking for him. His skin prickled, the hair stood up on the back of his neck, and if he stilled his thoughts enough, Matthew was sure he could hear Alfred's manic voice.

_Mine. You're mine._

Gritting his teeth against the pain and anger, Matthew held his musket tighter, pulled the trigger harder, and ran faster. He couldn't let this happen. He couldn't let Alfred win.

_Forever, right, Mattie?_

No Alfred...not like this. Images of lighter times came unbidden to Matthew's mind, and for a moment he could feel the happiness that he used to feel as he stared into those eyes that seemed to hold the sky. Their little promises to each other of always being together no matter what; how their hands would fit together so perfectly, and how Alfred would comment that Matthew fit against him as though they were made for each other.

Never did he think it would become this twisted.

It started with his desire for independence, when Matthew first saw the hairline cracks in his patient veneer. Gentle hands would become painfully tight as Alfred shook Matthew slightly, anger the dominant emotion with desperation a close second.

"Why? Why won't you leave with me?"

"Alfred, do you hear yourself? You can't just _leave-"_

"Just watch me, Matthew."

Matthew's eyes widened as not only the words washed over him, but the way Alfred uttered them. Low. Quiet. And utterly terrifying.

It was a while later that he encountered Alfred on the battlefield with the Battle of Quebec. Luck and determination favoured his side, and he had to admit- he felt a form of sadistic pleasure watching Alfred retreat off of his land. There was no way he was going to side with him...he couldn't do that to Arthur, or to his people.

It was the year following that Matthew heard the cry that echoed through Alfred's land; the statement that sent a cold, permeating chill down his spine.

"Canada must be ours; Quebec must be taken."

Matthew just cleaned his redcoat, lips pressed in a firm line, and eyes harder than they had ever been before.

But Alfred's people and leaders were confident, assuming that it would be simple for Matthew's land to be conquered, even with the combined efforts of the British, Canadians, and aboriginals. Weren't they surprised once more at Queenston Heights.

He had shed more than a single tear for Brock.

As he moved his way along York, he watched as men cut down other men, witnessed their light fading away, the crimson life flowing from them and tainting the clothes and ground around them. He didn't want to admit it, but Matthew was losing hope and it was deteriorating quickly as the Americans pushed them back even farther.

It was when a huge explosion sounded that the force knocked Matthew from his feet, his body hitting the ground with a bone jarring thud and he felt a sharp pain that took his breath away. The tremulous motion in the earth resembled the shock of an earthquake; and looking over to the spot of where it sounded, Matthew saw an immense cloud ascend into the air. All around him was a mass of smoke, timber, men, and earth with the smoke appearing as an ominous balloon. His ears were ringing, and he coughed harshly, spitting to the abused earth below him, not noticing the red hue.

"There you are, Mattie."

The words surely weren't a whisper, but the way they were breathily called out it could have been. The catch in Alfred's voice, the sound of complete and utter innocent _joy_ in finding him was more terrifying than his anger. Matthew looked up towards the direction of the voice and he was faced with an image that surely was the devil himself. Alfred was walking towards him with his head partially lowered, a merciless and crazed look in his ice cold eyes as he stared at him. The smoke from the explosion split, parting for the man as it billowed behind him, and he appeared to Matthew as a demon fresh from Hell.

"No...Alfred don't-"

But Alfred wasn't hearing him. "I've been looking all over this retched town for you! Were you hiding from me?"

With weakened arms Matthew pushed himself up onto his feet and swayed a little as he tried to strengthen his legs. It was becoming difficult for him to see and the feeling was slowly draining from his body as he flexed his hands, breathing deeply.

"Leave here, Alfred. Y-you're not wanted." Matthew hated how weak his voice sounded.

Alfred found it amusing, and clicked his tongue as he stood a few feet away from him. "Don't strain yourself. But it looks like you have no say in the matter, baby. Your defenders are evacuating." When Matthew tried to look around him a sharp pain blossomed from behind his eyes, resonating about his mind and causing him to stop the action with a pained sound. Alfred noticed this and tried to move closer, cooing to him. "Mattie? Are you hurt? Did any of my men hit you-"

With a frustrated growl, Matthew lashed out and pushed Alfred back, his sudden outburst catching Alfred off guard. He recovered quick enough however, and laughed as he rubbed his chest.

"Stop it!"

"My, my, Mattie. What's wrong? Upset to realize you can't beat me this-"

Once more Matthew cut him off as he punched Alfred in the cheek, blinded with rage.

"How _dare you!_" Matthew cried out as he followed through with another punch only to be blocked by a forearm.

Treating it like a game, Alfred effortlessly blocked each punch, all the while smiling and taunting Matthew. "Easy does it, Mattie, don't want to hurt yourself. You look awfully pale..." His voice was tinged with an edge of concern.

"How could you..." Matthew cried as his punch was blocked yet again. He could feel each punch becoming weaker, breathing was now extremely difficult and darkness curled in the corners of his vision. "I...I trusted you. I cared for you, Alfred! How could you do this to me? I lo-"

He couldn't finish it.

"How could I not?" Alfred cooed sweetly, his face radiating with adoration even as the surroundings spoke otherwise. "I promised you all those years ago that we'd always-"

"Don't!" Matthew cried out brokenly, his punch landing weakly at Alfred's shoulder, remaining there to collect the fabric in his fist. "Don't talk of those times; don't take them away from me..."

Images flashed through his mind of the two of them lying against the cool grass. Alfred was pointing up to the stars as his other hand held Matthew's tightly. They spoke of their future together, and Matthew would giggle over Alfred's version of the fairy tales Arthur would read them. He would always play the knight in shining armour, the hero, and Matthew would be the one in distress (never the princess). They would spend the days away by the lake, swimming or climbing trees. He distinctly remembered one time they climbed to the very top and felt like giants, just the two of them together on top of their world.

Hoping to use their memories to his advantage, Matthew tried to appeal to the little boy that used to speak of heroism so passionately. "Alfred, look at what you're doing! This isn't what anyone wants! You're destroying everything a-and you're hurting me..."

Alfred reached out and ran a hand over Matthew's cheek, frowning when the blonde flinched and moved away as if it burned him. "You just _think_ you don't want this, Mattie. I know what's best for you- more so than that fool Arthur. He's never known you, so how could he know what's best? You're blinded, but with me you won't be. Wouldn't you want to be with me instead? I know you, I know what you want, and what you need. I know what you're thinking without requiring a single word. Can Arthur say that?"

"You're missing the point..." Matthew gasped, hands flexing as he was losing his grip on Alfred's coat. "I _don't_ _want this. _I know what I want, and what is good for my people...We are not Americans."

Matthew could have sworn he heard, _'yet'_ under Alfred's breath.

The sounds of people screaming along with the deafening sounds of gunshots echoed around them, but they appeared distant to Matthew as he leaned heavily against Alfred. As he was trying to keep consciousness, Alfred was free to let his hands roam over Matthew's body, his mouth working against Matthew's neck.

"Oh, Mattie, how I've missed touching you...How long has it been since I've been able to kiss you?" He whispered just as he was about to connect their lips together. Unfortunately, Matthew's gasp of pain stilled the descent when Alfred touched something warm and wet on his back. "Mattie?"

"Al..."

Matthew finally allowed the tears to escape as his legs gave out, Alfred falling to his knees along with the blonde so he didn't hurt himself. Heart beating out of control, Alfred's hands were frantic as he tore the maddening red jacket from his body and pulled at his torn, dirty white blouse to discover a gruesome wound across his back; his blood still oozing out over what was dry.

"Mattie! Oh my god, Mattie..." Alfred ran his hands over Matthew's pale, cold face fervently as he tried to get those beloved violet eyes to focus. "I didn't know...come on, I need to get you into a house. I-I need to tend to your wound." He hadn't felt this scared in years, not since Matthew fell from the tree and he thought he broke his neck. When he ran up to him he saw the blonde was conscious, but Matthew was so scared it was hard for Alfred to keep his composure.

"W-wound?"

Alfred licked his lips and smiled weakly. "Yeah, but don't worry! I'm right here with you, baby, everything is going to be okay." He knew Matthew would survive this, but the fact didn't calm his mind, nor did it quell his tears. When he opened his eyes and looked to him, the violet orbs were clouded and it didn't appear as though he was looking at him, but was in a different time and place entirely.

"Always my hero...my Alfred."

As those violet eyes shut, sending Matthew into a state of unconsciousness, Alfred cradled Matthew's head against his chest tightly, breathing in deeply as he enjoyed the feeling of Matthew fitting against him once more. He let the feeling seep into his pores for a moment before lying Matthew down so he could strip off his jacket. Wrapping Matthew in his uniform, Alfred picked him up gingerly, bridal style, and moved with fast footfalls towards a house they had taken control of.

He looked down at Matthew's seemingly sleeping face, and felt his heart skip a beat as he took in the beauty that was his obsession. That strong, straight nose, his defined jaw, higher cheekbones, and the soft curve of his lashes against his silken cheek. His hair was damp with sweat and it curled adorably, perfect curls instead of his golden waves. Humming softly, Alfred whispered, 'I love you' close to Matthew's ear and kissed his cheek before pulling away. He didn't want to lock lips just yet, not while he wasn't awake to feel it. To feel him.

" 'A mere matter of marching'..."

Alfred looked down to Matthew and smiled once more, albeit a bit cracked.

* * *

_  
**Historical notes:**

-Sir Isaac Brock: Died defending Niagara from the American invasion at Queenston Heights on Oct. 13, 1812. His military actions in the War of 1812, particularly his success at Detroit, earned him a knighthood, membership in the Order of Bath, accolades and the sobriquet "Hero of Upper Canada."

-The Battle of Queenston Heights: The battle was a British victory early in the War of 1812 that turned back the first American attack on the Niagara front.

-The Battle of Quebec (1775): The British and Canadian garrison drove off the American attack and ended the threat to the British control of Canada.

-In 1776, while serving as a delegate to the Continental Congress, John Adams stated, "the Unanimous Voice of the Continent is 'Canada must be ours; Quebec must be taken.' "

-The grand magazine at Fort York was set on fire and this last act of defiance, later seen by the Americans as a deliberate, cruel trick, was devastating. The ammunition and powder stored in the stone-built magazine exploded, launching heavy rocks and debris through the ranks of the American forces and spewing a terrifying column of smoke and flame into the air. The blast instantly killed nearly 40 men and wounded more than 200, many of whom did not survive their injuries.

-In 1812, in a letter to Colonel William Duane, Thomas Jefferson wrote, "The acquisition of Canada this year, as far as the neighborhood of Quebec, will be _a_ _mere matter of marching_, and will give us experience for the attack of Halifax the next, and the final expulsion of England from the American continent."


	2. Chapter 2: 1763

_"Now Matthew, there is something else I want to show you, or rather, _someone_ else."_

_"Someone?"_

_"That's right. There is another child living here and he's my son, Alfred. He is to me like you are to Francis. Now where is that boy..." _

_The two explored the house, Arthur inadvertently giving Matthew a tour before he decided to check outside in search for the wily and elusive blonde child. He should have known that Alfred would be on the swing he made. Turning back to Matthew, he told him to remain hidden and quiet behind him to which the child merely nodded and gave a small smile with a finger pressed to his lips. Arthur turned back around with a smile, finding himself unaccustomed to the serene child after dealing with Alfred's loud and crazy antics for so long. _

_As he approached, he cupped a hand around his mouth and called out, "Alfred, I have a surprise for you."_

_The small, eight year old child perked up from hearing the accented voice. Jumping off of the swing, he ran up to the approaching man yelling excitedly, "really? What is it! A new wooden figure?"_

_Chuckling softly, Arthur shook his head. "No, something much better than that." _

_Looking around Arthur, Alfred finally noticed the white billowing fabric coming from behind him. With innocent curiosity he continued forward, slower this time with his eyes glued to what little clothing he could see, wishing Arthur would move. The Briton noticed this and with a slow step to the side, he revealed the figure standing behind him. _

_Akin to the drawing back of curtains, Alfred watched as the small child __that __stood there was revealed, clad in a soft white dress that billowed around their ankles. His blonde hair was longer than his own, curled a bit to fall into waves, and partially obscured their face due to the wind. Alfred swallowed and stepped closer, trying to see more of their face as hair continued to obstruct their eyes. It was only when a small hand lifted to move the golden strands away and tuck behind an ear was he able to see and feel the full force of those unique violet eyes upon him. Framed with thick, darker lashes, Alfred felt his cheeks burn for some unknown reason but he didn't question it._

_"H-hi..." Alfred stammered out. His throat felt as though it was swollen, his mouth like sandpaper. The newcomer looked up to Arthur for a moment, and when he nodded his head in assurance, the boy turned back to Alfred. _

_"Hello..." Their voice was gentle, soft, and somewhat accented. _

_"What's your name?" _

_Violet eyes fell to his feet for a moment before answering. "Matthew Williams. What's your-?"_

_He trailed off when Alfred stepped closer until they stood toe to toe. This intimidated Matthew slightly, and he would have backed up if Alfred didn't give a reassuring smile. The wind did not cease in whipping his hair all over the place, continuously getting in Matthew's eyes despite his best efforts, so with one swift movement Alfred removed the ribbon from around his neck. He continued to give Matthew a kind smile as he collected the soft, thick hair in his hands and tied the ribbon around it into a bow. It was a bit messy, but his hair was now effectively out of his face. _

_"My name is Alfred Jones." He didn't back away when he told him his name and found himself staring deep into those beautiful eyes._

_It was in that moment that Matthew smiled at him for the first time; his eyes lit up, and his whole face radiated from the smile. Alfred blushed once more, harder this time and had to look away. There was this tightening feeling in his body that he didn't understand and felt a little nervous about. He didn't know what to think about these new, strong feelings so he tried to think of something else. _

_In the meantime Matthew took his fill of the boy before him. He was the same height, give or take an inch, with glorious blonde hair and sky blue eyes. There was something about them, about _him_ that interested Matthew, as though the boy was magnetic in some way. Looking up higher, he noticed that there was a stray hair that didn't want to follow the flow of the others and curled back adorably...just like Matthew's curl. _

_"So you're Arthur's colony? A colony of England?" A quiet inquiry as he tugged at his curl. _

_Alfred puffed out his chest slightly and placed his hands on his hips. "Yes, and I'm the best damn colony he has."_

_"Alfred, language!" _

_"Sorry, sir..." Taking in Alfred's sheepish demeanour, Matthew giggled softly which caused Alfred to pout. "And you're Arthur's new colony then too I assume?"_

_"Yes I am. My people reside above yours... " _

_Alfred nodded and looked around, feeling a little warm over the constant violet gaze, until his eyes fell upon the swing and an idea struck. "Hey, have you ever been on a swing before?" he gestured wildly to the object in question. _

_"No, I don't think I have..." _

_"Then you must!" _

_Alfred went to go grab his hand and before Arthur had a chance to warn him to be gentle, Alfred held his hand in a softened grip, slowly guiding him over to the swing. He helped Matthew take a seat and moved behind him, holding onto his shoulders for a moment he warned Matthew what he was going to do, and for him to hold onto the ropes on either side. Once he did so, Alfred softly pushed against his shoulders, sending Matthew in an even forward swing. Matthew was practically glowing from happiness, finding the new experience thrilling, and that this new boy around his age was nice enough to play with him._

* * *

A warm hand gently brushed Matthew's golden hair out of the way, letting it fan out against the pale sheets in a beautiful combination. Alfred let his hand travel down lower to cover the blonde's lax hand and ran a calloused thumb along the slightly roughened skin. Matthew let out a moan in his sleep, along with a faint, 'Alfred.'

A slow smile curled his lips.

* * *

_Later that night, Matthew was having problems trying to sleep in his new living arrangements. __Turning to the side and facing the wall, he took the blankets and pressed himself closer to it, imagining that the hard surface was Francis' back. He imagined the man's voice, humming to him one of his beloved French hymns, finding that the tears that fell from his eyes weren't as cold. _

_Lost in his thoughts, Matthew didn't hear the sound of footfalls making their way down the hall, into his room, and stopping by his bed. He only realized the fact he wasn't alone when the blankets were pulled aside and the bed shifted to accommodate the new weight, causing the blonde to gasp quietly. Before he had a chance to turn over, a small form nestled close to his back and a shadow fell over his face. _

_"Mattie? You awake?" _

_"...Alfred? What's wrong?"_

_His voice wavered slightly as he moved back a bit to allow Matthew to look over his shoulder. "I heard a scary sound, and I thought it could have been a monster so I couldn't sleep and I thought I could come in and see yo- are you okay? Why are you crying!"_

_Matthew's hand flew to his face but Alfred beat him to it; his hand reached out and brushed the tears aside softly. He blinked up at him for a moment, wondering if he should say anything before whispered out, "I was just thinking of Francis." _

_Forgetting his fear as the need to cheer Matthew up took over, Alfred looked down to him and recalled the times Arthur kissed him before bed, whispering reassurances as he held him close, saying that he's safe with him. He thought of how happy he felt, so he wanted to do the same with Matthew. Leaning over, he pressed his lips gently against his forehead, brushing his hair back with one hand. _

_"Everything is going to be okay, Mattie. You're safe with me, and you're going to love it here! Arthur leaves often enough, so it might be just you and me for periods of time. You'll see Francis again, Mattie, so please don't cry...I don't like it when you do." He thought he felt stinging in the corners of his eyes._

_Shocked over his affectionate display, Matthew stopped crying and stared up at Alfred. "Th-thank you." _

_Alfred just nodded his head and lowered himself down to the pillow, leaving a slight distance between the two of them. After a few much more even breaths, Matthew turned around to face the other boy. "And don't you worry either. There's nothing out there that will hurt us- it was probably just the wind making that noise." With a small smile, Matthew held out a hand that rested against the bed. Alfred looked to this and without hesitation, laced their fingers together. "Goodnight Al."_

_"Goodnight, Mattie." _

_When Arthur found them the next morning, they were still linked by their hands._

* * *

Lethargic and slightly light headed, Matthew opened his eyes slowly, looking to the ceiling of the bright room in confusion. He shifted his legs around a bit, flexed his hand and was shocked to feel warm fingers laced between his. Matthew's heart skipped a beat and he debated with himself for a moment before looking over, scared that this was just a dream or that it was a stranger beside him, but when he did turn to see who it was, he felt all the air leave his lungs. It wasn't a stranger who sat by his side, but a long missed companion.

"Alfred..." Matthew whispered out quietly, a hand moving to cup his cheek. "Is it really you?"

With heavy lids, Alfred leaned into his warm palm as he stared into Matthew's face, lips pulled into a small smile. "Of course it's me..."

"It's been so long...I-I thought I'd never see you again." Matthew went to reach for Alfred but the blonde quickly stood from his chair and perched on the side of the bed, leaning over Matthew's body as his arms encircled him. He missed Alfred's look of confusion. "It's so good to see your face again...to hold you." Matthew took in a shuddering breath before breathing out slowly and Alfred could feel his hand run through his hair. "Oh god, I've missed you so much."

"I've missed you too, Mattie," came his quiet reply close to Matthew's ear. He didn't understand the sudden change in behaviour, but Alfred wasn't about to turn away his willing touches. Melting against Matthew's body, the American pressed his lips against the side of his neck and inhaled his personal scent that nearly ripped a moan from his throat.

Matthew shifted to try and hold him closer, to wrap his arms around him better, but the movement aggravated something and a sharp pain shot through his entire body, making him gasp from the sudden sting. Alfred just quieted him down, cooing that he had to remain still.

"Why? What's wrong with me?" Matthew looked to Alfred's face as he pulled away but found the blue eyes unable to meet his own. Looking down to his body, he was shocked to realize his chest and torso were covered in bandages. "Wh-what happened to me?" He tried to remember what happened, but all he could recall...

"Mattie, you need to lie down. You hurt your back and you need to heal. We might heal faster, but..."

Matthew wasn't listening. He remembered a big explosion, but what exploded? How did Alfred know? How... He looked to the window and noticed a bunch of men in blue coats running around, many with muskets in their hands.

Blue coats. Muskets. Explosion.

_Alfred._

"No..."

"No what, Mattie?"

"It couldn't be...you couldn't possibly be..." He looked to Alfred once more but this time the kind expression was replaced with tired resolution.

"It had to be done. You'll thank me...eventually."

"_Thank you?" _Matthew felt tears of bitter betrayal sting his eyes as the memories started flooding back. Every word that Alfred uttered, his very presence felt like knives, cutting and leaving him raw. "To think I thought you came home...came to see _me_..." Pushing Alfred aside, Matthew ran to the window and looked out, quickly appalled over what he saw. The men had ravished the town, looted what they could and packed up, even burning down his parliament buildings.

A cold sweat formed over his skin and the hair on the back of his neck stood up as he clenched his teeth and fists.

"Mattie..."

"_Get. Out_."

Alfred frowned and moved closer as the blonde looked over his shoulder, reaching out to try and cover the darkened bandages that covered his soon to be scar, but Matthew turned entirely and hit his hand away violently at the expense of pain shooting through him.

"_Don't touch me_. Don't even look at me. I want you to get out _now._"

He had wanted to stay with Matthew nursing the wound until his skin closed up, word of Arthur arriving be damned, but the look that Alfred was receiving was enough to make him nod. He wanted Matthew by his side, but there wasn't anything more he could do right now, not with Matthew in this state. Alfred wanted him, but he didn't want to see the look of hatred in his eyes...

"Fine. But I _will_ be back, Matthew. This isn't the end."

Alfred grabbed his coat and left, slamming the door behind him as Matthew slowly sunk to his knees, one hand reaching behind him to gingerly touch the area between his shoulder blades. Hissing from the tender skin, he thought to himself as he felt the damp bandages, 'no, it's not...'

Leaning against the darkened wood, Alfred heard Matthew's broken sobs through the door and found himself unable to hold his tears back.

This is what was best for Matthew and the Canadas…

Right?

* * *

**Historical notes:**

-The Treaty of Paris (1763), signed February 10, 1763 by France, Britain and Spain after 3 years of negotiations, ended the Seven Years' War. New France was surrendered by Governor Vaudreuil to a British invasion force at Montréal by the Articles of Capitulation on September 8, 1760. Prior to this the native allies of the French had reached an agreement with the British at Oswegatchie (August 25) and the Huron of Lorette had done likewise at Longueuil (September 5). The colony was under military occupation and under military rule until a definitive treaty of peace was negotiated.

By the terms of the treaty, Britain obtained Ile Royale [Cape Breton Island] and Canada, including the Great Lakes Basin and east bank of the Mississippi River, from France, and Florida from Spain. France retained fishing rights in Newfoundland and the Gulf of St Lawrence, acquired Saint Pierre and Miquelon as an unfortified fishing station and had her lucrative West Indian possessions, trading centres in India and slaving station on the Île de Gorée (in present-day Senegal) restored. In accordance with the conditional capitulation of 1760, Britain guaranteed Canadians limited freedom of worship. Provisions were made for exchange of prisoners; Canadians were given 18 months to emigrate if they wished; and government archives were preserved.

-The capture of the capital was an embarrassment for the British, exposing fatal inadequacies in their defences. Indeed, so poorly defended was the town that Chauncey returned in July, landing unopposed to burn several public buildings and boats, destroy a lumber yard, and make off with their supplies.


	3. Chapter 3: 1775

_Matthew stopped dead when he spotted Alfred sitting on the edge of a chair with his belongings on the floor by his feet. "What's all this?"_

_Looking up slowly, Alfred's expression was pained as he whispered out, "I'm leaving." _

_"Wh- what do you mean you're leaving?"_

_"Exactly that. I can't stand it here anymore, Mattie. Arthur...there are major problems going on right now, and things won't ever be right until I do something about it." Matthew knew exactly what he was talking about, and he didn't feel the need to elaborate. _

_"He's not just going to let you leave, Alfred!"_

_"Just watch me." Alfred stated, rising up to his full height. Watching Matthew's eyes that were slowly filling with tears as he walked over, he reached out to caress a cheek. "I love you, Matthew. No matter what happens, just remember right now. Remember me holding you, looking directly into your eyes and telling you that I love you with all my heart."_

_"You can't just leave me-" Matthew's voice broke so he lowered his eyes to their feet, tears rolling steadily down his cheeks. _

_Watching someone whom he loved so deeply break in front of him with an expression similar to his own, Alfred tried to think of something that could make the situation better. The idea struck him hard and swift, rocking Alfred to his very core so that even his words were laced with the sense of excitement and urgent need. Why didn't he think of this before? It's perfect! _

_"How about you come with me?" Alfred didn't need to tip Matthew's chin up for the young man to stare across at him. "That's right. You could leave Arthur with me, join with my people and become independent!"_

_"A-Alfred...I...I couldn't do that," Matthew looked between each bright blue eye, his words pained and unwanted between them. As much as Matthew wanted to be with Alfred, he couldn't leave Arthur...not with how much the man has done for him. "Are you sure this is what you want? After all, Arthur cares for us deeply...!" _

_"Arthur doesn't care about anyone but himself, "he scoffed, dropping his hand. "Can you not see? He barely pays any attention to you! He talks to us as though we're beneath him; as though we're still children! Can you honestly stand there and defend him to me?"_

_Matthew remained silent, biting his lower lip and looking off to the side. _

_"I thought not." Alfred took a deep breath and tried to smile encouragingly. "Now come on, Mattie. Tell me that you want to join and leave Arthur with me." _

_Silence._

_His smile fell. "Matthew..."_

_He noticed the blonde slowly shaking his head back and forth, still not looking at him. _

_Reaching out his hands to grab Matthew's shoulders tightly, Alfred shook him once out of frustration. "Why? Why won't you leave with me?"_

_"I can't!" Matthew nearly screamed, eyes tightly shut. "He's good to me..." All he could think of was his people and the Quebec Act that had passed. _

_Alfred shook his head but brought the blonde against him, cradling his head against his chest and taking in every sensation. The feeling of their bodies fitting perfectly together; those warm hands running desperately over his back, grabbing fabric here and there; the feeling of his soft, silken hair upon his cheek and the intoxicating aroma; as well as the sound murmurs of Matthew's pleas for him not to leave._

_He knew that he could be better for Matthew, but he didn't want to ruin their final moments together before he left. In fact, there was one thing that he wanted to do for years, and he couldn't think of a better time to act upon it. _

_Either Matthew didn't realize Alfred had picked him up by this point and began to move, or he was ignoring the fact. _

_"Everything will get better, you'll see. I- I could talk to Arthur for you, and I'm sure he'll listen to me! He would see where he went wrong and fix everything!" Matthew pulled back from Alfred's chest and pressed his head against the pillow Alfred laid them upon, the white sheets a stark contrast from their clothing. "It could be like old times again!"_

_With a pained smile, Alfred ran a finger over Matthew's lips to quiet him down, small sobs escaping those parted lips as he kissed the digits against him. Both of them knew his words were false, but Matthew was ever the optimist and that was one of the many things Alfred loved about him._

_"Quiet, baby. Enough talk about Arthur right now. I don't want this to be about him, I want it to be about us. Just us." _

_Alfred's whispered statement was felt on Matthew's skin before the two men brought their mouths together, a slow meeting that hastened from their desperation. This was not the slow exploration that they had done throughout the years, the tender kisses they shared before sleeping- this was the clashing of all the pent up emotions that have amalgamated over that time and now. The thought of separation, the thought of not waking up beside the other's warm body or be able to walk down the hall to find them made their actions harsh, rough, and desperate. Alfred tasted salt in their kisses, and he couldn't tell if it was from Matthew's tears or his own._

_Clothing fell to the floor forgotten as the men needed to feel more of each other. Hands mapped each other, pressed down or caressed pleasure spots and kissed sensitive areas. Matthew kissed each 'battle scar' as they called them; the small scars Alfred had formed over the years due to his adventurous and somewhat reckless personality. His lips whispered silent prayers in both French and English as he did so, blessing and praying that he would be alright...that they could overcome this. In turn, Alfred lovingly paid attention to each beauty mark that he found- kissing the small light brown dot on his right shoulder blade, the one in the dip of his lower back, a faint one behind his ear._

_It was hard to keep their mouths apart from each other for the two felt a certain magnetism between their lips. While their kisses now became gentle, their hands and bodies took up the rough pace as they finally travelled lower. Matthew bucked into Alfred's hand, moaning into his mouth but stopped when he realized the volume._

_"No, Mattie. Don't silence yourself. It's only the two of us, so let me hear your voice...I love how you sound."_

_Alfred moaned as he felt Matthew's fingers clench around his oil slickened fingers. Ever since the idea of taking Matthew in his bed entered his mind he kept it nearby, just in case. It was a dream of his for so long that he could barely believe it was coming true. _

_Soon enough they grew impatient, and Matthew tried to turn over but Alfred wouldn't let him. In hushed tones he whispered, "I need to see your face, Mattie. I want to look into your eyes as I make love to you, and I want you to look into mine." Matthew nodded slowly and moved back down, parting his legs once more and wrapping them around Alfred's waist. _

_The breaching took time, but neither of them minded- it just made the experience that much longer. He didn't want to hurt Matthew, and his arms almost shook with the fear of tearing him intimately. This was their first time after all, and he wanted both them to come out of it unscathed. Inch by slow inch he entered him, until finally their bodies were flush against each other and all movement ceased, save for harsh panting. _

_"Are you alright?" Alfred breathed down to him, pressing his forehead against Matthew's as he held one of his hands tightly. _

_It took a second for Matthew to respond, but it followed him clenching around Alfred's length. "Yeah...I think I am." _

_Flashing a grin down to him, feeling his heart flutter when it was reciprocated, Alfred pulled out slowly pulled out and pushed back in; his eyelids fluttering down to half-mast as Matthew's widened. Their skin was flushed and slowly becoming sweat slickened as Alfred sped up. The force of his thrusts sent Matthew upward with a quiet scream but a forearm cradled the blonde's head so it didn't bash against the wall. He could feel Matthew's hand squeeze harder as Alfred continued on, and soon enough he felt the burning sensation start. It was almost cruel for him to finish so soon, but in his defense it was their first time. _

_Moving down to press his mouth against Matthew's ear, Alfred whispered in a tone that made Matthew's toes curl, but his mind barely registered the words. "Mine. You're mine. We're going to be together forever, right Mattie?" _

_"Yes, Alfred, oh God, yes..." _

_Alfred chuckled breathlessly and reiterated what he said before. "You're mine and you _will_ join me soon enough. Just you watch, I'll have you in my colours yet-" _

_With one more ragged thrust, Alfred came deep inside of him, claiming the man intimately which sent his mind for a loop. His. Matthew was his, and will only ever be his._

_After a minute of not moving, he heard Matthew whine his name and wriggle beneath him. "Alfred...what about me?"_

_Moving back onto his knees, Alfred ghosted a hand over the straining, unspent member and smiled into those clouded violet eyes. "Who says we're done?"_

_"What-?" Matthew's eyes widened as he watched Alfred reach over for some more oil, slick his length up, and reach behind to prepare himself like he did Matthew. "_Oh_..." Matthew breathed out, his eyes darkening once more. _

_Much more rough with readying himself, it wasn't long before Alfred had wiped his hand clean and pressed both to the bedding beside Matthew's head as he lowered himself down with the blonde's help. _

_"Mattie..." he keened, lowering his head a bit. "You're so _big_..." _

_Soon enough Alfred was riding him slow and tenderly, wanting to lengthen it out as much as he wanted to lovingly torture Matthew and make him writhe. _

_Their lovemaking lasted long into the night, and as Alfred held Matthew's body against him as the man slept, he smiled from to the slight discomfort he felt- he didn't mind the pain since it was the result of something so beautiful and meaningful between them. After staring at the scratch mark on his shoulder that Matthew made, Alfred moved to kiss his cheek and whisper, "I love you more than you could ever imagine."_

_It felt colder than it should have been to leave the bed after that. _

_When Matthew awoke, he gasped over the pain that shot through his body upon stretching, but luckily it wasn't too bad. Keeping his eyes closed, he reached out with a leg in search for Alfred but only came in contact with cool sheets. Snapping his eyes open he sat up and felt his world spin as all he saw was a bright, empty room. _

_"Alfred?"_

_No response. His breathing quickened, and his chest hurt from how rapidly his heart was beating. Turning to the pillow he found a small piece of parchment and immediately recognized Alfred's writing. _

_My dearest Matthew,_

_If you are reading this, I'm sure you know that I'm long gone. I'm so sorry, Matthew. I hope, I _pray_ that there is some vestige of forgiveness left in you after my callous action. I know that I have no right to ask of such things from you, but I couldn't wake up beside you and take in your sleepy form only to say goodbye. I know not of what we will encounter in the years to come, but know that I've always loved you, and I always will. No matter what happens. _

_Also, my proposition not only still stands, but I beg of you: join me! We would take the world by storm, and no one could hold us down. I need you by my side, Matthew, and I doubt you realize just how much I mean that. I've dreamed of us living and ruling together as one, and these dreams have only grown with the desire to become independent. It must be fate, or God telling me that it's meant to be. Don't you think? _

_I hope to hear from you soon, Mattie, and I long to see you dressed in the colour blue. It is better suited for a strong man like you. In parting, I've left a small turquoise necklace on the bedside table. I hope you like it, and that whenever you wear it you think of me._

_Love, your Alfred._

_Unable to keep the tears at bay, Matthew took the pillow he watched Alfred rest against and held it close in lieu of the man's body. It wasn't until later when his eyes were sore from crying that he reached out for the piece of jewellery and stared at it, not sure if he was angry or hurt enough to throw it away._

_With shaking hands he fastened it around his neck and clutched the blue stone close._

* * *

_Alfred_.

Matthew moaned as he felt a warm hand on his forehead and reached up to hold it, bring it to his lips and kiss the beloved fingertips, but found himself disappointed. This was not the hand of a man seeking atonement, but a man trying to give comfort. It was smaller and not as warm, but it was familiar. Turning his head as he opened his eyes, Matthew saw a worn out and tired looking Arthur.

"Hello, lad. " He spoke softly, almost apologetically.

"Arthur...you're here."

He laced his finger's with the younger man's. "Yes, and I'm so sorry I couldn't get here any sooner. My men told me what happened," his eyes hardened for a moment and Matthew felt a ripple of unease run through him. He had seen that look before, and it usually wasn't a good sign for the recipient who caused the expression. "Here, sit up for a minute, love. I need to change your bandages."

Arthur also wanted to assess the damage laid upon his poor colony, so with gentle hands he removed the wrappings and felt himself grow more and more appalled at what he saw. A huge gash bisected his back and was deeper than anything he had seen the boy endure before. Without a doubt it was going to scar, and the knowledge that Alfred caused it made his blood boil.

The sound of something breaking caused Matthew to turn, watching in disbelief as Arthur, who had stood to get more bandages, was standing above a pile of broken glass while breathing heavily. As the older man tried to regulate his breathing, Matthew realized just how dark the bags were beneath his eyes, and how _old_ he looked.

"Arthur...what are you doing here?" Matthew inquired softly as he pushed off of the bed, walking over to him to grasp a shoulder. "You have other things to worry about at home. I'll be fine here...I have my people along with yours, so it's alright. Even the great British Empire can be spread too thinly."

A heavy hand fell upon his shoulder as Arthur turned to him, giving him a small smile. "I'm so sorry, Matthew. I am _so sorry_ that once again you are pulled into this by that vile, pernicious Alfred-"

"Don't."

Arthur blinked up at blonde for a moment. "What?"

Taking in a shuddering breath, Matthew rubbed the back of his neck and opened his mouth to speak, but Arthur nodded and beat him to it.

"No, you're right, it's not best to talk of Alfred right now. Come, we still have to cover up your back." Arthur waved him back over to the bed as he collected some more bandages, except he stopped when he noticed a picture out of the corner of his eye. "Do you frequent this house?"

"Yes, it's actually the house I lived in whenever I was here." Matthew smoothed his hand over the fabric of his bed as he spoke. After Alfred left he realized where he was, surprised to find that the house had been spared of any damage or looting. Had Alfred remembered the house? Did Alfred remember making that dent in the hallway to stop them from falling as much as Matthew did? Does he remember lying out on the warm grass behind the house, rolling round and laughing without a care? Does he remember planting all those now trampled flowers...that they shared their first kiss there?

* * *

_Matthew could remember their first kiss perfectly...their first childish kiss, and then their first true kiss. They were at Arthur's when they pressed their lips together the very first time, around the human age of eight (their mind and bodies matured in the blink of an eye with the rate of their aging process). Even then he was filled to the brim with curiosity. _

_"Mattie?"_

_"Yeah, Al?"_

_There was slight hesitation in Alfred's voice. "You know that girl we saw earlier? With Arthur?" Matthew hummed. "Why was he kissing her?"_

_"He must care for her. Arthur told me once that you kiss people that you care a lot for."_

_Alfred pouted. Arthur never told him that before. "He told you that?"_

_"Yeah," Matthew yawned beside him, leaning against the side of the house with his eyes closed so the early morning sun wouldn't make his eyes water. "He said that you kiss people you love; that it's really special and should only be shared with-" _

_Matthew found himself unable to finish his sentence as his lips came in contact with cool, thin lips. It was short, a small peck, and when he opened his eyes Alfred's big blues were all he could see. _

_"Love you, Mattie."_

_Alfred's eyes flared when he heard Matthew's bashful, "I love you too, Al."_

_From there Alfred only accepted kisses in return for favours- either getting him a plate, scaring the spiders away, or taking the blame when Arthur got angry over something. Matthew didn't mind it for the most part, only that he hated it when Alfred took the blame for everything. _

_It was when they were sixteen that they shared a true kiss- one where all innocence was lost and they knew exactly what they were doing. Interestingly enough, it was Matthew that instigated the kiss. _

_Alfred had been boasting over the fact that he was much stronger than Matthew, and subsequently prompted them to have a wrestling match in the backyard. Matthew knew that Alfred was strong, befitting their inhuman nature, but Alfred never realized that Matthew held his strength back. Alfred quickly realized this by finding himself flat on his back with Matthew's cheery face staring down at him._

_"On your back already Al?" _

_With a snarl Alfred jumped to his feet and slammed against the teen, their bodies immobile as each side tried to push the other back; strength equally matched. Matthew faltered for a moment, trying to see if he could get Alfred into a new position but he was quickly over powered and found himself in a headlock, flailing to try and get out of it. _

_"Ha! How about that-"_

_Matthew reached for him as he let his legs give out, taking them both to the ground before trying to manipulate their positions. Due to his fast action catching Alfred off guard, he managed to roll them and get behind the blonde, his arms and legs wrapping around Alfred's torso like a vise._

_"You had enough yet?" Matthew panted from behind him. _

_"Never!" Came Alfred's impassioned reply as he pushed back against him, wriggling to get the appendages off of him._

_To his surprise Matthew actually let go and he rolled away, but when he expected Matthew to follow he found the teen on his back staring up at the clouds. _

_"What's wrong, Mattie?" Alfred leaned over him, blocking the clouds from sight and casting a shadow over his face. "Did I hurt you?"_

_"No..." Matthew whispered, and Alfred realized that his cheeks were a little pink. "I just..."_

_Hands lifted to cup Alfred's cheeks just as he leaned down to try and hear Matthew a little better. That aided the blonde in speeding the descent and soon he had their lips close together, running his tongue along the seam of Alfred's lips. Alfred felt his face heat instantly and his heart hammer out of control but he eagerly opened his mouth for Matthew to enter, which he wasted no time upon doing. _

_Moaning into his mouth, Alfred felt light headed as Matthew's tongue rubbed against his, moving from time to time to move somewhere else or back into his mouth. He didn't like it when Matthew drew his tongue back so the next time he did, Alfred followed with his own and invaded Matthew's mouth. The taste of him was heady, and Alfred didn't realize that his hands were wandering everywhere- from his face to his hair to his chest and hands. _

_Matthew had parted his legs so that Alfred was able to climb over his body and situate himself between them, their bodies now perfectly flush against one another. As their kiss progressed, the found that their hands couldn't keep away from each other so they laced their fingers together and rested them against the grass by Matthew's head. The teens could feel the sun beating down and heating their clothing and skin, feel the wind whisper over them occasionally when the heat was becoming too much, and the scent of nature, that clean, fresh scent filled their senses. _

_When they parted their lips were horribly swollen and almost numb to the touch...but that didn't stop them from kissing again when they caught their breath._

* * *

"I thought so..." Arthur's voice brought him careening back to the present, and it took him a second to remember what they were talking about. "I found this on your dresser."

For a split second Matthew was worried that he found Alfred's old letters, but to his relief Arthur had a small piece of paper in his hands with two young boys drawn onto it. Arthur was the one who drew that picture of him; he drew two pictures, one for Alfred and Matthew of the two of them together. Matthew's depicted them hugging and smiling at the viewer, while Alfred's picture was of him giving Matthew a piggyback ride.

"I didn't know you kept it."

"I couldn't throw it away. I like to look at it sometimes and think of the time when we were all happy together."

"Matthew," Arthur called out sadly and moved to sit on the bed beside him. "Everything will get better and it will be like old times again...you'll see."

He didn't understand what he said to make Matthew cry so hard.

* * *

**Historical notes:**

-Americans were enraged by the Royal Navy's continued violation of American neutral rights, and they were also eager to make up for their earlier failure to acquire Canada. Even more vexing was the British practice of searching American vessels for "contraband" (defined by the British as goods that _they_ declared illegal) and of searching for deserters who had fled the harsh conditions of the Royal Navy. Many of these deserters had taken jobs on American ships and American certificates of citizenship made no impression on the British. The final straw in this perceived British arrogance was the actions of British captains to impress (seize) native-born Americans and put them into service on British ships. On June 1, 1812, President Madison sent Congress a request for an immediate declaration of war. On June 4, Congress voted 79-49 in favour. On June 17, the Senate followed with approval 19 votes to 13, and on June 18, Madison signed a declaration of war against Great Britain.

-The British Parliament in London adopted the Quebec Act, 1774 which implies the right to the French language, and confirms the right to the Roman Catholic religion and to the French civil law, and the right of the Catholic Church and the seigneurs to impose taxes. The test oath was abolished. The purpose of the Act was to encourage the "Canadiens" not to join the American rebellion.

-Georgian Period 1714-1830: Jewelry designs of nature featuring flowers, leaves, insects, birds, feathers, and ribbons. Engraved gemstones and intaglios were favored along with agates and cabochon cut stones. During the early nineteenth century, cameo brooches and earrings became popular. Garnets, turquoise, amethyst, and particularly pearls were the rage.

-Interesting side note: The common turquoise gemstone meanings are that of strength, protection from harm, psychic sensitivity, last but certainly not the least connection to the world of spirits. The other meaning attached to it is of a truth stone and it symbolizes a time to be honest to oneself. A lot can be gained when the person becomes still and is able to see himself as he truly is.

-During the period 1812-22, it could be said that England suffered more, economically, socially and politically, than during the French Wars. They were engrossed with the Napoleonic Wars and couldn't spend much time with Canada, save sending a few troops and ensuring strong leadership.


	4. Chapter 4: 1813 Fort George

"So what are you going to do, Matthew?"

Having dried his tears and bandaged his wounds, Matthew now straightened his uniform and grabbed his musket. "I've been out for too long and I need to help them...What's the status of Fort Meigs?"

"Procter failed to accomplish our goals," Arthur bit out, leaning against the oak desk with his arms folded. "There were many deaths on each side..."

"Tecumseh?"

Arthur caught the note of fear in the younger man's voice. "He's fine."

Breathing in slowly, Matthew nodded and turned to face him. "Thank you for coming and helping me."

"That's quite alright," sighed Arthur and pushed off of the desk to walk forward and place a hand on his shoulder. "I'm sorry that I have to leave you so soon."

"I don't mind, Arthur. You have more to worry about at home. This...this is something Al- we must settle on our own."

"I don't know what happened with you two...you two were so close when you were younger-"

"Yes, well, I'm sure _America_ has his reasons."

Arthur knew by Matthew's tone that this topic was not a road to wander down further, and he couldn't help but feel uncomfortable by Matthew's formal use of Alfred's name. Nodding to himself, Arthur cleared his throat and followed the younger man's line of sight. "Where are you going to go now?"

"...Fort George."

* * *

Alfred stared across the line of his men as their hot shot cannon fire broke apart the British defence. Every one of their log buildings were set ablaze, and the men felt malicious pleasure while they watched the dark smoke curl up into the air to further illustrate their attack, their success. Twisting his lips back into a feral smile, Alfred could practically taste their victory already.

He knew he had the advantage- his troops consisted of around five thousand men while the opposition held maybe twelve hundred. British North America didn't stand a chance and yet another success would fall for his side. While Fort George was imposing, it was a key entry point if they were to have any hope of invading Upper Canada. They all knew that they had to come out of this as the victors and claim it as their base.

While the explosions sounded around him Alfred's gaze moved to the flag pole, he licked his drying lips at the thought of how beautiful his flag would look there.

* * *

The men moved around the room, either eating, playing cards, or trying to remain focused, but Matthew sat before a mother and child. There were a few women and children in the fort (families brought in by the men), and Matthew hated to see their scared expressions from across the room. Unable to keep to himself, he slowly but surely made his way around, not leaving until he saw a smile on their faces at least once.

"What's your name?" he asked, voice gentle and kind. Matthew smiled down to the obviously frightened girl while she perched, shivering on her mother's lap.

At the coaxing of her mother (Louise, she told him), the little girl had introduced herself as Hélène, and he guessed that she was not much older than six years of age.

"What a beautiful name!"

"Thank you, sir..." she murmured a bit brokenly, trying not to cry. "Is... Is Papa going to be alright? Are we going to die?"

"Hélène!"

Matthew gave a sad smile to the mother before reaching out to hold the girl's small hand. "I don't know how this is going to turn out, Hélène, but you are certainly not going to die. Nothing is going to happen to you, and your papa is a strong man. He's going to survive this-"

Explosions sounded in the distance and all at once, the men stood, scrambling about to ready themselves. Matthew stood, bid the mother and child goodbye, and moved away to help rally the other men, shouting encouragements while they were filing out. Matthew was standing by a few other men, watching as they got their things together, when one man ran over to Hélène and her mother. He appeared to be in his mid-twenties, and judging from the expression Louise wore, he was her husband.

It was easy to read the fear on the man's face which was as pale as a sheet, and when he cupped her cheek, his hand trembled even with his attempts to mask it. Kissing his wife hurriedly, he extended an arm and pulled Hélène close against him, hushing her as she sobbed against his chest. She switched from English to French in her panic, begging and pleading him not to leave, but her father just ran a hand along her hair in a slow caress, his words of assurances low and surprisingly calm.

"Nothing's going to happen, little one, but if you and mama hear anything I want you both to hide in the stone powder magazine. Promise?"

Pulling back, he kissed her cheek and gave her the strongest smile he could muster before turning back to his wife. She had a trembling hand pressed against her mouth and sobbed out his name while he opened his arms up for her to step into.

As he kissed his wife for the last time, Matthew had to look away.

The man ran up and joined the other soldiers as they were walking out. Nodding and giving the man a reassuring smile, Matthew gently asked, "Are you alright?"

The man flinched but quickly recovered. "Yes."

"What's your name?"

"Marc, sir."

"Marc, everything is going to be alright, okay? We're going to get through this together," whispered Matthew while placing a hand on his shoulder.

The man gave a nod and smiled in return. "Thank you."

* * *

It was two days later that they sent their attack out on foot, forcing the enemy to face them in the open field. Alfred watched as the soldiers approached, looking for any sign of wavy, golden hair, of an untameable curl, or angry violet eyes. Taking in a deep breath of the cool, crisp air, Alfred then slowly released it while his eyes travelled over the line of soldiers across from him. Men of varying colours and backgrounds stared back at him, and he had to commend them on their strong bravado.

Not that it was going to do them any good.

It took a minute to finally spot the blonde, but when he did Alfred couldn't keep the excited grin off his face while his body hummed to life.

Standing a bit off center, Matthew stared back at him directly with a scowl. Over the following days since he had left Matthew's room, Alfred had been thinking about what his leaders were doing including British North America in with the conflict with Britain, questioned his ulterior motives to annex Matthew's land so he could only ever be _his_, and as a result he found himself being ravaged with guilt to the point of headaches. He thought that maybe this was a mistake, that it would only end badly not just for America, but for himself as well, and his relationship with Matthew; but as he spent time among his men he couldn't help but fall into their passionate speeches and get drunk off of their victories.

Of course Matthew wouldn't want this at first but in time...In time he would see that it would be beneficial for him. Just like when they were younger and Alfred took on the role of big brother, helping Matthew thrive and remain healthy- America could help his people prosper.

A thought struck him like a crack of lightning, and Alfred's eyes widened as the idea festered and expanded. What if they merged and became one? One land, one country without rules and without borders. Alfred felt a bubble of excitement form in his chest as the image of Matthew standing by his side entered his mind; the two of them ruling the world together, the largest country and the leading superpower. He could see them perfectly, right down from Matthew's adorable crooked smile to the band on his left ring finger.

_Ring. Why haven't I thought of that before? It's been so long since I've lavished Matthew with gifts... _

Alfred sent Matthew a wink, not caring if he would be able to see it or not.

* * *

Even though they fought as hard as they could, the British troops were forced back further and further. All around him his men fell, broken and bleeding, and while he stared at the cold, motionless bodies, watching as their lives slowly faded away, Matthew felt a cold fog of defeat seep into his lungs. Men who had barely lived and who had families to go back to had fallen, seemingly forgotten onto the grass, and Matthew felt his heart fragment further as he recognized one- Hélène's father.

Marc and Matthew had lost contact in the battle, and while Matthew was trying very hard to protect his people, but he could only do so much. Falling to his knees ungracefully, Matthew felt for Marc's heartbeat, and while he grit his teeth against the pained anger that was bubbling in his chest, Matthew's fingers caught on a chain around Marc's neck as he tried to pull away. A golden cross fell against his uniform, and the instant Matthew saw it he reached around the man to unfasten it. Taking his lax hand, Matthew placed the cross against his palm an closed it into a fist, and whispered a prayer: "God...Creator and Redeemer of all the faithful, grant to the souls of your servants and handmaids the forgiveness of all their sins. Through our devout prayers may they obtain the pardon which they have always desired. We ask this through Christ our Lord. Amen."

With a final touch to Marc's shoulder, Matthew grabbed his musket and ran, silently praying for all the other men around him that couldn't have their last rites.

The command was that they had to fall back. The American force was too strong and they had to abandon the fort. Matthew had started to run along with the rest, but after a few steps his feet led him in a new direction back towards the fort.

He saw a foreign flag waving high in the air where his should have been, and his stomach flipped over. This was wrong, so wrong... Their fort, the headquarters for the Centre Division of the British Army, a place where British regulars, local militia, First Nation warriors, and a corps of freed slaves served; the place where Sir Isaac Brock served until he died at Queenston Heights...destroyed and taken away.

Matthew would have screamed if he could. Instead he had to rely on stealth, running quietly around the building to try and get to the powder magazine. He had to save them. He had to!

* * *

Of course Matthew wouldn't escape his gaze, Alfred thought, running behind the blond. Did Matthew honestly think he could?

_Are you trying to play the hero, Mattie? Do you think you can take on all of my men by yourself? _Alfred clicked his tongue, wondering what he should do if the blonde attempted such a stunt.

Creeping far enough behind him, Alfred grew more and more confused watching Matthew run in a different, unexpected direction. Keeping to himself, Alfred watched Matthew enter the building and disappear from sight for a few moments. Instinctively he tightened his hold on his weapon and was about to step forward when he saw Matthew reappear.

Blinking slowly, Alfred was confused to see Matthew hold a small child tightly in his arms, one hand running over her brown hair while a woman followed close behind him. He couldn't hear their whispers, but the child's shoulders were shaking horribly and she hid her face against Matthew's neck.

Matthew nodded to the woman once and beckoned her along. The three making their way across the field as fast and silently as possible. Alfred noticed that none of his men were looking at them at the moment, and Alfred let out the breath he didn't know he was holding.

He should have known Matthew would go back to save whoever he could. All his life he had been like that...

* * *

_"Why are you crying?" _

_Alfred felt a gentle hand on his shoulder moments before the quiet voice close to his ear inquired, prompting him to drop his hands from his eyes. Turning to look up at Matthew while he stood above him, Alfred sobbed out, "Tony is missing! I've been looking for the last hour and I can't find him! Wh-what if something ate him..."_

_Matthew chewed his bottom lip and thought about where Alfred's pet rabbit could have gone. "Have you checked around the house?"_

_"Three times!" he wailed into his hands once more._

_"The forest?" _

_"No..." Alfred hiccupped. "Arthur told us not to go in there when it's just us, remember? We're too young." _

_Matthew stared at Alfred for a moment before pointing towards the building. "...Go check the front of the house and then come back here to the tree. I'll see if I can find him. _

_With a nod, Alfred did just that, trying not to cry when he came back empty handed. When he neared the tree however there was no sign of Matthew._

_"Mattie?" he called out with a hand cupped around his mouth. _

_No answer. _

_Sniffling a bit, Alfred tried to figure out if he should look for Matthew or stay where he was in case Matthew came back, when the boy in question decided that for him. Matthew was walking up towards Alfred with a wide smile on his face and a small ball of white fluff in his arms._

_"Mattie! You found him! Where was he!" Alfred screamed and ran down to Matthew, belatedly realizing he had scratches all over his arms. "What happened?"_

_"Oh...he just gave me a bit of a fight. It's alright though, I'll be fine. Here," he said, handing the rabbit over. _

_"Thank you so much, Mattie.." Alfred held the animal close while leaning over to peck the blonde on his cheek. "What a hero!"_

_Matthew blushed adorably and rubbed his cheek, murmuring, "no, that's your job." _

_._

_It was a few years later that Alfred experienced another one of Matthew's heroic moments, and that was when they were around the human age of sixteen. Now that Arthur let them be, the two teens enjoyed taking long walks in the thick forests to just get away and be in their own world. _

_On one certain occasion however, the two had a major fight that had escalated from a silly argument into something bigger. Alfred had stormed out of the house and ran into the woods, punching trees here and there out of frustration. As he was running along, Alfred misjudged his footing and tripped over a stump that was rooted into the center of his makeshift path. _

_He cried out as he fell, sliding and scraping his arms while trying to break his fall. This resulted in many cuts that immediately began to ooze blood. Cursing loudly, Alfred looked up and felt his heart drop. Less than fifty feet away was a bear that just ambled into sight and it was currently staring directly at Alfred. _

_Horrified, Alfred struggled to get to his feet but the moment he put weight on his ankle he quickly fell back down with a strangled cry. The bear didn't appear to be too happy with him. With a snort it started to make its way towards Alfred. Alfred knew that he had his strength on his side, but would he be able to land a blow before the bear did?_

_Luckily he didn't have to find out as a large, thick tree suddenly cracked and fell right in the bears path, the force of the descent causing it to crack a few other trees, effectively blocking its approach. Startled, Alfred's eyes widened and he stared at the scene before him. Matthew appeared from behind a tree trunk and ran towards him._

_"Why are you still on the ground? Come on, let's go!" _

_"My ankle..." _

_Concern and fear entered Matthew's eyes as he looked at Alfred's bloodied arms and swollen ankles before he had Alfred climb onto his back. Once he was sure of their hold on each other Matthew tore off towards the house, running as fast and careful as possible. _

_The moment they were home, Alfred accepted Matthew's angry lecture while he tended to his wounds, unable to help from smiling at the blonde._

_"What? What's could you possibly be smiling about!"_

_"You came looking for me, Mattie."_

_Matthew blinked twice before frowning and looking down at Alfred's arms. "Of course I did! I couldn't just let you run out into the woods by yourself after we..."_

_Swinging his legs back and forth, Alfred felt his throat tighten a bit while he tried to speak. "I'm sorry I yelled at you...you didn't deserve that. Even after everything I said, you still cared enough to check and see if I was okay..." Alfred flinched when he felt Matthew's warm palm slide over his hand._

_"Alfred, I don't think you understand. Of course I'd come looking for you..." Matthew laughed, shaking his head and shrugging before he simply stated, "you're everything to me. I don't want to see you hurt."_

_He didn't know tears had formed let alone fallen until Matthew reached out to wipe them away._

* * *

Watching Matthew's retreating form, Alfred felt quite shamefaced. The wind mocked him with the gentleness of its soft caress, and it did nothing to soothe his burning forehead. Alfred stumbled to the side, legs suddenly weak, and reached out for a tree. His hands flexed and moved over the bark as he pressed heavily against it, struggling to breathe.

_This isn't right. Matthew doesn't deserve this...this is between Arthur and me. There's enough land for my people, so why do we need to annex British North America? Why... Matthew made it clear years ago that he didn't want this. And he forgave me. After all of that he forgave me!_

Lost in thought, Alfred didn't notice the low cracking sounds while he was pushing the tree over, the trunk breaking a bit below his hand.

_He still accepted my letters. He reacted and gave back in our secret meetings, and never once looked at me with those eyes...Those...eyes..._

With trembling hands, he covered both of his ears to try and get rid of the annoying pulsating feeling in his head.

_I can't have him hating me; I can't stand it! Not after all of our history... All our lives, I've been the one who Matthew went to, I'm the one he needed. I can't let him down, he needs me! He needs me, Mattie needs me...! Needs..._me_. Arthur isn't the one for him, I am. _I am!

Alfred let out a hysterical, broken giggle while running his nails down his cheeks, leaving long angry marks in their wake. The more he thought about it, the quieter the buzzing became. It became so hard to hear and it felt as though he was floating below the surface of a nearby lake.

_I'm the best thing he has, _I am_. He loves me and only me! Me! Why would he go anywhere else- how could he possibly rely on anyone else? I'm the one for Matthew. British North America will be ours. Ours...yes, ours. They will yield for the United States, and just like he always did, Matthew will look at me with love in his eyes! I have to get rid of that look of hatred... Mine...Mine...The Canadas will be ours...mine...You'll see, Mattie. In the end, you'll see. I just love you so much, don't you- _can't you_ see? I love you, I love you, I love..._

_Mattie_.

Everything went black.

* * *

Alfred felt a dull throb behind his eyes and groaned in pain as a stabbing sensation shooting through him each time he took a breath. He could hear the birds singing, the sound of men talking amongst each other in the distance, and he could feel the wind run along his skin and kiss his heated cheeks. Cracking open each eye slowly, Alfred's frowned as he took in the small blades of deep green grass and the numerous tree trunks until realization hit. He was on the ground, on his side.

When had he fallen? What happened? Blinking owlishly, Alfred rubbed the back of his head in attempt to massage his headache away. What was he doing there? He remembered walking through the trees...but why? Who was he following?

Twisting around to look over the clearing, Alfred's eyes widened when he saw the figure he could recognize in his sleep.

Barely noticing the woman and child, Alfred focused on the only thing that was important.

"_Matt._"

* * *

_  
Historical notes:

**Heated (or hot) shot:** A process where a solid iron cannonball is heated red hot in a specially-designed wood- or coal-fired furnace and then is loaded in a muzzle-loading cannon, cushioned by a substantial thickness of wet wads, and is then fired while still red hot, at flammable targets with the intention of setting them on fire.

**The Siege of Fort Meigs: **A small British army with support from Indians attempted to capture the recently-constructed fort to forestall an American offensive against Detroit, which the British had captured the previous year. An American sortie and relief attempt failed with heavy casualties, but the British failed to capture the fort and were forced to raise the siege.

**Henry Procter (Proctor)**: His record as a commanding officer was praiseworthy; in fact, his superior, Major-General Sir Isaac Brock, noted that the excellent condition of the 41st was due to Procter's tireless efforts. His peacetime accolades, however, would soon be tarnished by his wartime record. Exaggerated reports of Procter's poor conduct all but had him convicted for incompetence before he had reached Ancaster. While the soldiers under his command conducted themselves poorly, there is little doubt that Procter's leadership was wanting. Procter was publicly reprimanded and suspended without rank or pay for 6 months, and even though some of the charges were later dropped, his military career, once filled with praise and success, was ruined. He returned to England in the fall of 1815, where he lived in semi-retirement until his death. While his name is synonymous with failure, historians continue to debate Procter's successes and failures and whether or not the charges against him were warranted, even if his leadership had been weak.

**Tecumseh**: Shawnee chief, leader of a First Nations confederacy, military leader in the war.


End file.
